Faded Glory
by Liliththestormgoddess
Summary: Tales from Han's childhood to adulthood. AU
1. Prologue

Faded Glory 

**Summary**: Tales from Han's childhood to adulthood.

**A/N**: This is my attempt at explaining and exploring Han Solo. It is a companion piece to Reflections; you don't have to read it first, but it is the basis for this story. I would advise it. I've taken almost that entire story and dispersed it into this one. I really was only planning on stopping there, but I got a bunch of reviews telling me that I should do a multi-chapter story. I had nothing in mind so I kind of brushed off the idea…but it seems my muse didn't, and before I knew it I had the whole thing planned out and all the pieces falling in perfectly. So, many thanks to you guys; you're the reason this story exists! I'm quite pleased with the way this turned out. I hope you agree and enjoy it too. Note: I am taking many creative liberties with this story, and I'm working strictly with what I've seen in the movies.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars!

Prologue

"I want that one."

Though the statement came from such a young boy, it carried with it a definite tone, as if he were not only four years of age, but older and sure of everything in life. It also bore a hint of childlike determination.

He pressed his face to the window, gazing at the toy in the store with such an intense stare, perhaps he hoped he might be able to spirit the toy through the glass.

She was beautiful, he decided. Actually, as soon as he'd glimpsed the sleek, crescent shaped ship, he knew that he didn't just want the toy.

He wanted the real thing. He wanted to fly the real thing.

He _was_ going to fly the real thing. Sometime. It was probably the one thing in his life that he was sure of. To an adult, it would've seemed like a childish fantasy, an obsession. But Han Solo, with stubbornness abound for such a young person, knew that it wasn't just a flight of fancy.

"Ah, you have an eye for ships." A man had sidled up next to Han and stared into the store. "A Corellian YT-1300. Good choice."

Han looked back up at the man, who smiled in a friendly matter back at him. Han said plainly: "I'm gonna get that ship."

"Oh?" the man smiled, humouring the child. "Have you asked for it as a gift?"

"No." Han turned back to the window and said matter-of-factly, "I'm gonna get a _real_ one. And I'm gonna _fly_ it. I wanna be a pilot."

Obi Wan smiled at the young boy who so earnestly wanted that freighter. But something in the Force tugged at his mind as he observed the boy. The boy was not Force sensitive, no, but something in his adamant words told Obi Wan that, without a doubt, he would fulfil them. With this realization he studied the boy curiously, probing him slightly with the Force when a woman appeared next to the boy.

She smiled shyly at Obi Wan, but grabbed the boy's hand and said, "Come along, Han. Everyone else has left already. It's nearly lunchtime." She herded the protesting boy from the window, chiding him, "You stare at it every week Han. Do you really need to see it again?"

Obi Wan Kenobi watched the two disappear down the street, getting the strange sense that not only would Han own and fly that particular ship, but that he was to play a large role in the future of the galaxy, and that they were destined to cross paths again.

Obi Wan shook himself. It seemed incredibly far-fetched, but then again, the Force never lied…


	2. The Visit

The Visit

**AN**: So if you didn't already know, I have this card I like to call a Creative Licence. And it allows me to do things like this story. And throughout this story I'm going to be using it often! Like I said, I'm taking creative liberties, so I guess I can call this AU. Oh, and from now on, this story will be in Han's POV. Just the prologue wasn't.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars. I just do it for fun! For my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others :)

Over our lumpy, lukewarm and semi-edible lunch, Kuna leaned over and whispered to me that she'd heard from Talia, who'd heard from Cale who heard from the caretakers that Jedi were coming to the Home tonight. She said they were searching for pros-pec-tive Jedi's.

My ears perked. I didn't know what that word meant, but I'd heard about the Jedi. They were powerful people who defended those who couldn't defend themselves. They were on the holonews all the time.

By the time evening came, the word had spread through the rest of the children in the Home, and we practically danced in anticipation. Sure enough, Madam Liska told us to wash up and behave ourselves because we were having a visitor. There was some muttering, but as soon as she said that it was a Jedi come to test us, we burst into excited conversation. We could not be calmed.

A few minutes later a man walked in, dressed in a dark cloak, and told us that he was going to take a small blood sample from each of us, and could we all get into a single file.

We all scrambled to be the first in line, and a lot of pushing ensued. Madam Liska and the others attempted to organize us, but we all buzzed with excitement.

When it was my turn, the Jedi took a small device and pricked my finger. He asked me if it hurt and I puffed out my chest and said no – I was six years old after all. I was too old to cry.

He smiled gently and with another small device, took a swab of my blood, glanced at the screen, and said I was finished.

When he finished, he took with him six boys and two girls, including my friend Kuna. She, along with the others, were so happy about leaving to train as Jedi that they smiled so huge and danced all the way outside.

My heart sank as I watched Kuna go, with just a feeble wave goodbye that she did not see. I realized then that things, especially people, did not last forever, and my heart hardened a little.


	3. Kid

Kid

**AN: **Tthis chapter was inspired from watching my cousin attempt to learn to catch – but he seemed more content to use his head than his hands.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars. But I own Kid.

When I was about six, we got a New Kid.

We called all the new orphans New Kid, especially when we heard of this one. We whispered to each other over breakfast and in class, ignoring the glares Madam Liska gave us. It was always interesting to have a New Kid, and what they were like and why they were there.

Madam Liska gave up on the lesson, and with her hands on her hips and a half-hearted scowl, told us that New Kid's parents had been killed in the war. Just like my parents, I thought. Or at least that's what they'd told me, that my parents had been killed in the Clone War.

I'm sure Madam Liska told us his real name, but 'Kid' stuck. We started calling him Kid and it just seemed to fit. It was probably because he was so young and innocent looking at two years old, and real cute, with his blond hair and blue eyes. It just was right. Kid.

Kid was also real eager to hang out with the 'guys'. He never wanted to play with those his age, so when we were allowed our free time outside he followed us, and we took care of him. All the other street kids and gangs knew not to touch him. No one messed with Kid unless they wanted their face bashed in. We protected him.

I was eating breakfast one morning when Kid came up to me. His eyes were really wide as he looked up at me, clutching a small ball to his chest.

"Teach me to catch, Han?" he asked shyly.

I grinned at him. "Yeah sure, Kid. If you're gonna learn to catch, ya gotta learn it from me. I can teach you best." I took him outside and we began our lesson.

I had him stand a few paces from me and showed him how to hold his hands out to grab the ball. Then I threw. The first few times the ball hit Kid in the chest. He seemed so surprised every time, and by the third time, slightly frustrated. I told him to move his hands in the direction of the ball, while bringing them into his chest.

I was patient while he struggled – it was a hard concept for him to grasp. But eventually he did.

The smile that spread across his face when he caught the ball seemed to pull the sun out from behind the clouds. He jumped and shouted then ran over and gave me a hug before running back inside to tell Madam Liska.

I always wondered, years later, if he remembered a Han Solo who had taught him to catch.

**AN**: I hope someone got what I was getting at here! :D Anyways, please R&R!


	4. The Mark of a Thief

The Mark of a Thief

**AN: **This is one of my favourite chapters :) This story is completed, and my goal is to upload all the chapters before school starts.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

The Home gave us free time once in a while, but for a group of boys, it was not enough. So every day around noon, right after lunch when it was the most hectic at the Home, we always snuck out.

Same place we always met was behind one of the local stores in the market. When I got there, Jusik was juggling six apples that he'd stolen, and the others watched in awe. Jusik was sort of the leader of our group. He was a few years older than the rest of us, about eleven or so. He'd just begun to teach us the tricks of his trade of pick pocketing. We'd all done several small jobs like lifting wallets or fruit or small items from the vendors.

But now, he was upping the ante. Two days ago he dared Fil to take the baker's money stash, and Fil succeeded – barely. He was lucky to make it out of there alive, let alone not getting his ass arrested. He was careless and clumsy, and I think Jusik had given him the job purposely, to see him screw up. He claimed he was only trying to train Fil.

Suddenly, Jusik stopped juggling and caught all apples in perfect succession, then tossed one to each of us.

I had just taken a bite of mine when he announced: "And now I have a test for you, Han."

I tried not to look frightened. I bottled my fear and surprise and tucked it far away, instead putting on a face of boredom. Besides, I wasn't afraid of what Jusik had in store for me. I was one of his best thieves. Perhaps that's why he handed me the test that he did.

He gestured to me to follow him and we stepped out from the alley and walked down the streets a bit, until we stood looking directly at a vendor that made my blood run cold. This would not end well, I knew.

Before us was Old Pete, a large, fat, angry man who had the shortest temper. Everyone, especially the street rats, feared him. He sold watches and was known for keeping a knife in his boot, and it was said he'd kill any rascal who dared to try to steal his merchandise.

I looked at Jusik, who seemed so calm for someone who was sending me to my death. He nodded to the display. "Get me one of those new watches," and then he walked back to safety, but kept a watchful eye on me.

Taking a rather large bite of the apple, I sauntered over to Old Pete, trying to appear casual. I could do this. I could do this.

As I got closer, I saw Old Pete was busy yelling at another customer. Seizing the chance, I creeped up to one of the displays farthest from Old Pete.

I'd put down the apple for a split second in order to grab the watch closest to me, when with a breath taking 'whoosh', the apple – which was in fact very close to my hand – was sliced cleanly in half. Jerking my hand back , I followed the knife attached to the hand that belonged to none other than Old Pete – who looked madder 'n all the Corellian Hells.

"Lookin' at somethin', boy?" He growled, his face inches from mine. His teeth were all crooked and uneven, and his breath was horrible.

I tried to take a step back; my heart in my throat, but his other hand snagged my wrist, and held me back.

"Uh, I was – I was just lookin'," I stammered, now trying to free my wrist.

"No," Old Pete growled. "I seen you around before, street rat. You were gonna steal from me, weren't cha?" He waved the knife uncomfortably close to my face.

And then his face turned red. Real red. A tomato had been thrown, and landed square on his face and now the juice was running down his face. Some of it had got on me. I knew it was one of my buddies trying to bail me out, so I saw my chance.

Taken by surprise, Old Pete loosened his grip, and I wrenched myself free, but not without quickly snatching a watch off his table.

But Old Pete deserves a little more credit. He may be old and fat but he can be pretty fast when he wants to. As soon as I made my escape, he made a sudden move, a last-ditch attempt that I hardly saw from the corner of my eye.

I just remember his arm swinging, the glint of sunlight, and a blow that sent me reeling back.

Hands grabbed me before I fell, and my friends hustled me off, leaving a roaring Old Pete behind.

We dashed down alleyways for several minutes, and when we finally came to a stop, I felt the horrible pain on my chin. Touching it, it was sticky and warm, and I almost gasped aloud. My fingers came away red, and it wasn't from the tomato.

Jusik was looking at me, slightly horrified. I saw something like regret in his eyes. But I pretended not to feel a thing, and attempted to stem the bleeding.

"Uh…" Jusik began uncertainly. "We'll tell Madam Liska that you fell and hit a rock." Jusik. Always thinking, always spinning lies. But he was good at it. Taught me a thing or two. Between the two of us, we could convince Madam Liska.

In response, I pulled the watch I had snatched from my pocket and pushed it into Jusik's hand. He looked at it, surprise etched on his face. I knew he was sure I had not retrieved it.

He looked back up at me, and grinning crookedly, dropped it back in my palm. "I've got a watch," he said, and I figured he felt a little guilty. Then his voice became authoritative again. "Now let's get back before you bleed to death on the street."

I still have that watch. Best damn watch I ever had.


	5. Hero Worship

Hero Worship

**AN**: So here is where you may recognize scenes from Reflections. This is most of that story, but I've spread it out for a few more chapters.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

We'd snuck out again. It had started to get so easy, I feared that soon we would get comfortable and sloppy, and we would be caught. And punished. I was pretty sure the cook knew about our trips. Last time we got back, he gave us a funny look.

But Jusik had told us all to meet him. And he was the boss. You didn't disobey him. This time I think he was going to send Danny out again. Danny was good because he was cute. He was four and a half and had a small, round face, large blue eyes, and a real innocent look to him that got him anything.

He was one of the best thieves. Second to me. Oh, and maybe Jusik. He was good, but he was our leader, so I guess I had to say that he was the best.

But sending out Danny was tricky too, because he was memorable. He could only beg at the same place a few times before people got suspicious and called security. Me, I was sneaky and silent, but I was memorable now. Damn Jusik, I thought as I fingered my chin.

I felt a little sorry for Danny. He _was_ innocent, and that's when Jusik plunged his claws into him. Danny didn't really understand that what he was doing was wrong; he just wanted to please Jusik. And that's what Jusik preyed on. He was going to raise Danny a thief, so long as Danny didn't get adopted. Me, I knew I was doing wrong, but somewhere along the lines I stopped caring.

I found them in the same place, and just as I got there, Danny came back, carrying a sack that was too big for someone of his size. He was grinning.

Jusik grabbed the sack and rummaged through it. He smiled. "Nice job, kid," he said as he examined the mixture of coins in his hand. As a reward, he thumbed a coin towards Danny, who caught it. The rest went to Jusik's pocket, 'for later', and we split the food.

I had just started to bite into the apple given to me, when we heard a sudden commotion on the streets.

We did live in the heart of the city, and heard all sorts of noise everyday, but this was different. There was panic and fear in the air. Screams and shouts could be heard, and without a second thought, we dashed off to find it.

It wasn't hard. Not two blocks down a crowd was forming around the base of the Senator's apartments. At first we couldn't figure out why, but several people kept pointing up and exclaiming things like "Jedi!" and "assassin!"

Sure enough, atop the roof were three people locked in furious battle. I recognized two from the news. They were focussing their combined efforts on the third man.

For the next several moments, we watched the famous Jedi battle on the roof. It was incredible. Their sabres danced with amazing colours, hypnotizing us. We watched their enthralling dance, fancy footwork, and calm, calculated moves.

And when the assassin was taken away, the crowd that had gathered at the base of the building cheered.

The one they called Anakin passed me on his way through the dense crowd. He saw the group of boys gathered, staring at him in wide-eyed, unabashed awe. He gave us a wink, and carried on.

But that was enough.

I wanted to be a Jedi.

We all wanted to be Jedi. We all wanted to jump rooftops, battle assassins, wield deadly lightsabres, and save damsels in distress. It was every boy's dream.

We wanted to be heroes.

We wanted to be those that we looked up to.


	6. Street Games

Street Games

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own Star Wars.

For weeks, we talked of nothing but the Jedi. Of course, Madam Liska soon figured out that we had snuck out, but we hardly cared about the punishment. We sat in the classroom, empty books open in front of us and the lesson as punishment written on the board, but it was all ignored.

"We should be Jedi!" Danny exclaimed, his face glowing. Everyone agreed. I did too, even as I recalled the test that I had undergone years previously.

It was soon arranged that to play, we had to find lightsabres.

When our punishment was lifted, the first thing we did was dash outside and collect sticks. It became a competition to see who could get the bigger stick, and ultimately, be the better Jedi.

But there was one drawback: no one wanted to be the Sith.

"But we gotta have a Sith," whined Fil. "We just hafta."

"Not me," sniffed Jusik.

"Not me."

"Not me!"

"Not me," declared everyone else, as fast as we could, until only one person was left who hadn't said it fast enough.

Piya grew red and frowned. "Not fair," he said, but by then we had brandished our lightsabres. With a shriek he lifted his own to block our attacks.

Everyday it was the same. A Sith was chosen and we would 'kill the Sith' and be famous, worshipped Jedi. Even I was Sith a few times, and had some bruises to show for it.

All that could be heard was screaming and yelling and laughter as we danced around with our 'lightsabres' in our hands, trying to mimic their footwork.

We never wanted to come inside when Madam Liska would call us back in. We were having too much fun.

"Lunch time!" she would call, standing in the doorway.

"We can't!" one of us would yell, while swiping and dodging attacks. "We are Jedi on a very important mission!"

"Even Jedi need to eat," she said. "To gain strength."

We couldn't argue with that. We all wanted to be strong.

**AN**: Ah, some reminiscence of my own childhood! Who else remembers the 'Not It' strategy to every game?


	7. Only a Religion

Only a Religion

**AN: **This was one of the harder chapters to write. It went under much editing and rewriting. Hope you enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

Not long after, my world shattered. It felt as if everything had fallen out from under me. Everything I believed in was gone; a lie.

The distant hum of the ship and the racing of my heart were the only things I could hear in the quiet confines of the crate. I'd left the screams long behind.

The images of men and women, scared silly, blasting their way through the streets, panic taking over their minds, seemed burned into my mind. And all I could see were the horrified faces of Madam Liska as she was falling…and Danny, whose eyes pleaded with me, thinking that I could stop it all…

It had all happened so fast, I recalled. I had spent my break inside, with a few of the older boys, playing Sabaac. We were taking advantage of Madam Liska's absence, because we knew we would be in trouble for gambling. She was out, taking the younger children to the market.

We heard the screaming and the shots first. Then Danny appeared in the doorway, eyes wild and frightened, screaming, "Anakin Skywalker is dead!" and something about a Darth Vader and the Jedi falling, and an attack on the Temple. I could hardly hear him over the ruckus outside.

I didn't know who Darth Vader was, but the urgency in his voice sent us scrambling, cards scattered and forgotten. We ran outside to see the chaotic riot in the streets.

People were screaming and shooting, and many seemed to be crying the same things Danny had been saying, but I understood none of it. A deep panic and fear had taken root in the citizens – and inside myself, too.

I noticed the smoke trailing into the sky. I could smell it, too. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the Jedi Temple. That's when I noticed the troops of warriors making their way through the crowds, inducing more panic.

I caught sight of Madam Liska ushering the children towards the Home, as fast as she could. Her face was horrified, and she was doing her best to keep the children from the harm of the crazed people.

But blasts were flying, and I saw Madam Liska collapse and lay still, and the children scream and run even faster.

We helped to get them all inside, the cook and other caretakers taking them farther back towards safety. But as I went to grab Danny, I stared into his eyes, and saw a horrible blankness in them. Gently, not heeding the commotion around me, I laid his body down inside the building.

Suddenly, Jusik grabbed my arm and yanked me off to the side, where he and some of the older boys stood. "We're leaving," he said. I didn't understand him, so I just stared at him. "We're leaving, Han. We're not staying here, or on this planet any longer. Are you coming?"

I struggled to decide. Did I want to follow them? What was better? In the end, they made the decision for me. They took off, and I hurried to keep up. I trusted Jusik, and I wanted to stick with him. I hoped he knew what he was doing.

In all the commotion, it was easy to sneak out of the Home. The cook and the other caretakers were busy tending to the smaller children, and didn't notice us leave.

I followed them through alleyways and crowds, stopping only once by a group of dead men. Jusik stooped over them and took their blasters. He handed me one, and I stared at it in my hands. I'd never held one before, but it felt so natural.

Our goal was the spaceport. We were getting off this planet. We heard things as we ran; that the Jedi were all dead and that more troops were heading to the Senator's apartments.

Soon we hit the chaos that was the spaceport. All public ships were packed, and people were still streaming in.

Jusik pulled up, and we stood in a relatively quiet corner, while he conferred with the older boys who were only a few years short of escaping the system.

Jusik turned back to me and I noticed blood on his cheek, seeping from a long cut. He paid no attention to it.

"Our best chance is to smuggle ourselves out. We have no money to get on board." He pointed to several crates between one of the public ships and another smaller, private one.

We snuck that way, and the older boys pried the lids off a few of the crates. They took out the contents and tossed them behind the ship. We all got in separate crates and closed the lids.

In the dark of the crate, things really began to sink in. I started to feel homesick. Not for the first time, I wondered whether I'd made the right decision to leave the Home. Clutching the blaster to my chest made me feel safer, older, and able to take control of the situation. I wanted to be back with Jusik and the others. I felt safer with them.

I wanted to be back at the Home, with Danny, playing Jedi and Sith like nothing was wrong.

My grip tightened on my blaster, and my heart grew hard and cold for my stolen happiness.

I saw the Force as something unbreakable, always prevailing against evil, and keeping those vulnerable and weak, safe.

The amazing Force had not saved the Jedi, had not saved the invincible Anakin Skywalker. It did not save us.

Force? What Force? The Force wasn't real.

It was just some hokey religion.

Something only for young boys to believe in.

I had to be a man. And though I hadn't even reached double digits in age yet, I knew that I couldn't be a boy anymore.


	8. Stowaway

Stowaway

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

**AN**: Thank you for your kind reviews!

When I thought that we had been in space long enough, I figured it was safe to venture out of my crate and see the others. I hadn't heard Jusik or the others say anything, and I thought it was odd.

Lifting the lid slightly, I looked straight into darkness. I saw a few other crates clustered around, but nobody there.

"Jusik?" I whispered. I got no answer. "Jusik?" I hissed a little louder. Had he fallen asleep?

I stood up, still holding the lid, and gently rested it against a box. I stepped out of the crate and went to the box directly next to me.

"Jusik?" I whispered again, slipping my fingers beneath the lid and prying it off.

Inside, I saw only what appeared to be furs. Confusion and fear started to shoot through me. I checked the other crates.

I found food and bottles and powdery things, but no boys.

I felt so alone, so terrified. I realized that I must have been loaded onto a different ship than the others.

I stepped backwards and tripped over the lid I'd put down, falling to the floor.

Hoping no one had heard the noise, I jumped back into the crate and pulled the lid back on, but kept my blaster trained upwards.

But someone had heard the noise. I heard footsteps and then some shuffling, and then the lid was whipped off my crate.

"What the –" the man swore, before jumping back just as I pulled off a shot.

"Woah, woah!" I heard him come closer, and frozen with fear, I could only stare up at him, blaster ready in my hands. "I'm unarmed, kid. Why don't you step out." He spoke so calmly.

I stood up, and looked at the man standing there, his hands held out to his sides. He wore a holster on his hips with a blaster in it, with a pair of black pants and tall black boots and a simple black vest on top of a yellow shirt.

I felt my fear start to go away. He didn't look evil, I thought. He had eyes that were looking at me in confusion and surprise, not anger.

"Why don't you put that thing down, huh?" he suggested. "I ain't gonna hurt 'cha." To my surprise, I did.

He seemed to relax a little, before staring at me inquisitively, and then his eyes darted to the crates. "Now, don't tell me they sent me a shipment of kids!" he moaned, and began inspecting all the crates. "I ain't smuggling kids!"

I stepped out of my own crate. He'd finished searching, and finding no one else, came back over to me. "What in the stars were you doing in there?" he questioned.

"Hiding," I said uncertainly.

He frowned. "Why?"

"We had to get off planet. Jusik said we should hide in the crates."

He sighed. "What's your name?"

"Han Solo."

"Alright, Han. I hate to have to delay my shipment, but I have to take you back."

Fear seized me. "No!" I cried.

He frowned. "Aren't you're parents going to be worried about you?"

I stared at the ground and shook my head. "I live at a Home. But they shot Madam Liska…and Danny…" I had to push the sadness back with all my strength. I was a man. Men didn't cry.

He heaved a big sigh, then asked quietly, "You've seen too much, haven't you?" At my lack of response, he put a hand on my shoulder and steered me around to a set of stairs. "Alright, let's get out of the smuggling hold."

My ears perked. "Are you a smuggler?" I asked.

He grinned. "Yep. Gotta make a livin'." He led me out of the hold and to a table with some chairs.

"Why don't you sit down. Are you hungry?" I nodded.

When he came back, he had two dishes and two glasses. He set one set down in front of me and took a chair opposite me. Leaning back and looking casual, he said, "I'm Captain Morin Bade. This is my ship _The Sunfire_."

I stopped eating for a second. "I wanna be a pilot," I told him.

His smile grew wider. "No kiddin'! Smuggling's the best way to do it. After all, if it's not illegal, what fun is it?"

I smiled, thinking back to our less-than-legal trips to the market. Maybe it was best I had ended up on a smuggler's ship. I told him as much. "On our play breaks, we used to go to the market and pick pockets." I remembered Jusik always kept the findings. He probably still had them. Except my watch. I had that on my wrist at all times.

Captain Bade's eyebrows rose. "A bona fide thief already, huh?"

I couldn't contain my curiosity. "Can I see the ship?"

Captain Bade showed me the controls of the ship and various functions. While there, a message came over the speakers: "Attention _Sunfire_. This is an official inspection. I repeat, shut off your engines and prepare to be boarded."

I looked at the oncoming ship fearfully. With all the smuggled items, we were going to be in big trouble.

But Captain Bade just grinned and settled into the pilot's seat.

"Strap in, Han," he said without looking up from the switches and dials. Quickly, I buckled myself into the co-pilot's chair. He turned then to look at me and his wide smile was infectious in spite of our predicament. "Now, Han, this is how you avoid being inspected."

* * *

><p>Five years of smuggling later, Captain Bade was killed in a disagreement over a shipment. He left me everything, including his ship, to continue his smuggling business. And I did – vowing to never again break Captain Bade's number one rule of smuggling: Don't trust anyone.<p> 


	9. The Millenium Falcon

The Millennium Falcon

**AN**: I did visit wookiepeadiea for rules on Sabaac, but that just seemed to open a whole can of worms and it just ended up giving me a headache. So I figured it was something close to poker. Anyways, this is my interpretation of how Han got the Falcon (obviously, can you tell from the title?) And thank you to my reviewers!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

"Well, I'm out," came the disgusted reply as cards were tossed onto the table.

"Me too," another growled, taking a long swig from his glass. "Lost too much t'night already."

I sat smugly in my seat and stared right at Lando Calrissian. He looked down at his cards, visibly sweating. "Not you too, Calrissian," I goaded.

This was it. I knew it. This was the night I was gonna win _her_. That beautiful ship.

In truth, I only became friends with Lando because of his ship. When I saw him, I knew he was a guy I could weasel it away from. And when I heard he liked Sabaac…well, I guess the stars were aligned or somethin'.

For awhile now we'd get together with a couple other's and play rounds and drink and smoke. Lando usually got drunk real fast, but he was never dumb enough to let go of his ship, and I hadn't had a great enough hand. Even though in the beginning I saw Lando only as a way to get a ship, I did like the guy. But I still wanted that ship. Ever since I could remember, I've always wanted that ship. Words cannot describe how it felt when I actually saw it, sitting in the spaceport, for real.

Lando reached for his drink and almost missed his mouth. Yep, the poor sucker was drunk.

He grinned at me, looking slightly cross-eyed. "I'll call your bluff, Han," he slurred slightly. Then he went to toss more credits when he noticed with dismay that he didn't have enough.

"So, Lando, you're out?" I reached for the pile, when, just like I knew he would, Lando stopped me.

"No!" he said. He eyed the pile of credits like a boy eyeing a cookie jar. He wasn't able to resist. "I'll toss in my ship."

The others let out various sounds of shock and intrigue and sat forwards to get a better look. Things were suddenly interesting.

Lando flipped his cards a beat before I did.

A few seconds of silence, then –

Carl whooped with laughter and slapped me on the back. "You cleaned him out, Han!"

I smiled at the lost and depressed expression on Lando's face as I scooped up my winnings. "Thanks pal. No hard feelings?"

He looked up at me, and I wondered if he would remember this in the morning.

And then there she was, the Millennium Falcon. I grinned like an idiot. Mine, all mine.


	10. Reflections

Reflections

**AN**: One of my favourite chapters. When I first considered the idea of turning my story Reflections into something more than one chapter, this was the first thought that came to my mind. Everything else spun off of this, though it may not seem that crucial or substantial. Guess my muse worked overtime!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

There was something familiar about the two of them; something unsettling that was just out of reach and settled in my gut like a rock.

And then there was just something about the promise of 17000 credits that made me forget about those instincts – but just for a moment.

After we'd settled into hyperspace, I remained in the cockpit, contemplating the visitors. For some odd reason, the old man seemed so familiar, as if I knew him…and the kid, well, the name was what was getting at me.

Luke Skywalker. It sounded so damn familiar. But I couldn't figure out why.

Luke Skywalker. Luke Skywalker. Skywalker…Skywalker…Anakin Skywalker?

I stepped into the cabin to see the kid practicing with a lightsabre, something I hadn't seen in years. Memories I'd long tried to repress sprang to the forefront. I saw laughing kids swinging sticks, the Jedi duo on the roofs, and Anakin Skywalker winking at us.

Anger started to spread through me with the resurfacing of my childhood. I couldn't believe, that after all these years, people still believed in the Jedi. They'd all been wiped out – so much for being protectors!

I said as much to the old man. Boy, was the kid sore. Flew off the handle when I said that the Force was a hokey religion and that the Jedi were idiots.

And we were idiots for believing in them.

A few yours later I found myself in the cabin, with the kid sitting at the table, and no fossil around. I guess he went to sleep.

I grabbed a cup of caf and sat down on the other end. He never looked up.

"You related to Anakin Skywalker?" I asked him, surprising even myself.

He looked up, surprised. "That's my father! Did you know him?"

I looked away. What could I say? That he was my childhood hero, that because of him I played Jedi for hours on end, and that in the end it was all a big joke because he went and got himself killed?

But the kid wouldn't understand. He was looking at me with his eyes wide, waiting for a story.

Well, my story didn't have a happy ending.

I drank the rest of my caf and stood up to leave. "I know that many boys looked up to him. They all wanted to be just like him. And the day he died…their dreams did too."


	11. Tell Me How to Kill

Tell Me How to Kill

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

"Have you ever killed anyone, Han?"

The question didn't really surprise me. I'd been wondering if he was going to ask me something like that ever since the Death Star.

Luke had been quiet, distant. I knew it had been hard on him, destroying the Death Star. Understandable, seeing as thousands, maybe millions of lives had been lost – but necessary. I think it was eating away at him.

We were headed out to Hoth where they were building a Rebel base, and I was flying Luke out there, and for the first time in a while, we were alone.

They were basically his first words on this whole trip. He looked straight at me, his eyes sad and serious.

I snorted. "Luke, what do you think we've had to do for these Rebels? We can't always battle Imps by knocking 'em out then pattin' 'em on the back. Besides, look who yer talkin' to." I spread my hands and grinned.

He didn't crack a smile. It was almost as if he had lost his sense of humour.

"No," he said, struggling for words. "I mean, _really_ kill someone…like…like…in-in cold blood. With hatred."

I turned towards the lighted console of my ship, my grin fading. I understood exactly what Luke was asking.

I'd never had the best reputation. Hell, I'd never made much of an effort to have one. But I knew a lot of people who'd raised their noses at me and questioned my upbringing.

It always made me mad. I hadn't had the greatest childhood, yes. But Madam Liska had done her best, and it wasn't easy raising a crazy houseful of kids. I'd always liked her, and there would always be a special fondness in my heart for her.

When I met Captain Bade, he basically summed it up for me: "Han, m'boy, you've just been dealt the wrong Sabaac hand. And you know what you do when you ain't got the right cards? You cheat."

Probably not the best figure to look up to and grow with. But you have to use what you've been dealt to your advantage.

Under his instruction, I learned to survive. Without him, I would have been dead in two minutes on the streets.

And above else, he taught me a trade.

A less-than-legal trade, but hey, it pulled us along.

One specific smuggling run stood out sharp in my mind – and it would forever, I'm sure.

It was supposed to be an easy run, but that never happens.

There were three guys arguing about the shipment in a language I didn't know, and gesturing wildly at Captain Bade. He knew the language too, because he spoke back, less than friendly, almost spitting out his words.

And then it escalated. From heated tones to shouting and then shooting, almost in the blink of an eye.

It all happened as if they were images flashing before me: Red shots flying. Captain Bade falling. My blaster, the very one Jusik had handed me, in my hands. Rage welling inside me as I raised my weapon. And the three men, dead before me.

It hadn't hit me until after I got Captain Bade's body and the shipment back on the ship.

I was angry. So very angry.

And at 14, I had become a hardened killer and smuggler.

I looked back towards Luke, who had been patient as I dredged up old memories.

"Yeah," I said quietly. "Yeah kid, I have."


	12. Frozen in Hell

Frozen in Hell

**AN**: If you can't guess from the title what this chapter's all about, it's about Han frozen in carbonite. I can't imagine it was a picnic for him, so I explored my reasoning that it was his own personal hell. This was another one of my original chapter ideas, actually. Thank you for all who reviewed! And thanks to my reviewers, I really appreciate your comments and insights! You guys are awesome! One more chapter after this...

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

It was so cold. I'd never felt this incredibly cold before. Every intake of breath was sharp in my lungs.

I looked around; the sprawling white landscape was familiar. Hoth. I can't believe the Alliance had chosen to come back here to this frozen wasteland hell.

A movement in the distance caught my attention: a figure floundering in the snow. "Luke!" I shouted.

I ran towards him, but each step was slow and clumsy. Where had my tauntaun gone? I couldn't seem to get to him. He was getting farther and farther away. I had to get to him!

I wasn't fast enough. His small, unmoving form faded into the distance and I stopped short.

Darkness descended, and it got colder.

Then to my right a figure emerged from the swirling snow. It was Luke.

"Luke!" I cried, stepping towards him, relieved that he was there. But I was soon appalled when I saw him.

He was bedraggled and bleeding from several wounds, and his cloths were torn. He had a horrible, bone-chilling glare, accentuated by a scar that ran over his eye.

"How could you leave me, Han?" he demanded.

"No, Luke, I –"

"You left me to die," he said. "You left us to fight the Death Star alone. We all died, all because you care only about yourself!"

His form flickered and wavered, then vanished back into the falling snow.

"No!" I cried, distressed at what I'd heard. It couldn't be true. Then suddenly I realized who else would have died, and a horrible panic struck me. "Leia!"

As if she heard me, she appeared before me, very much like Luke in appearance.

"No, Leia," I whispered, despair in my voice.

She glared at me. "Captain." She spit the word. With just two syllables she managed to convey absolute loath and disgust more than any ugly word. "I hope the money makes you happy." And with that she too disappeared.

"Leia?" I called, searching frantically for her. I had to save her. Vader had her! But the snow was too deep, and I kept getting caught. It took all my strength not to fall over. "Leia!"

A horrible chuckle had me spinning around, to see Lando appear. He was grinning maliciously and had a smiling, content Leia in his embrace. "Don't worry Han," he said mockingly, "I'll take good care of her."

Rage boiled inside me. "My friend," I said bitterly, and swung a fist at his image. It sailed right through, and he turned back to snow.

I wandered around in the dark for some time, trying to find the base, when another figure blocked my path. He had a blinding light around him, and despite everything, I recognized him not only from when I'd picked him and the kid up, but also from all those years ago.

"Obi Wan Kenobi." How did I know his name? He had simply been introduced as Ben to me.

He smiled at me. "Yes, Han. Little do you know the important role you play in the galaxy."

I scowled at him. I swear, he'd come back just to haunt me. "Yeah, uh huh," I said.

But he just smiled and sidled past me, and left me with some parting words: "Your path will be lit before you soon enough."

A blinding light exploded, searing my eyes, bringing my arm up to shield my face. When I brought it down, I found myself in a land that stretched before me with sand.

It was hot. My feet burned and I found myself without shoes. The suns beat down on me and I realized I was on Tatooine. Why in the seven Corellian hells would I come back to Tatooine?

Up in the distance I spotted Luke and Leia walking across the sand.

Smiling, I called out to them. "Luke, Leia! Wait up guys!"

I ran towards them but never seemed to get closer, and they never stopped walking. Leia turned her head towards me, shot a disapproving glance and slung an arm around Luke. Before I knew it, they disappeared.

The suns were so hot, and I couldn't find any shelter or water. Just then, a familiar howl reached my ears.

"Chewie!" I called, but I could not follow his voice. Everywhere I looked I saw only sand. Sand, sand, and more sand.

"Han, Han!" I heard a small voice cry. Danny came running towards me, his eyes wide with fear. "He's dead! Skywalker's dead! Darth Vader's coming! The Temple's been attacked!"

And I was suddenly back in the Home, watching all the children run around in panic. Screams filled the air as Madam Liska tried to usher them inside. I could smell the smoke in the air. I could see troops making their way down the streets. I saw the fear, smelled the fear. I heard the screams, like echoes replaying in my mind, over and over again.

I saw Madam Liska fall, and many of the other children, and Danny, who stood right in front of me. His wide, unseeing blue eyes seemed to swallow me.

The next thing I knew, I was following Jusik down the narrow alleyways. Shots went off around me, but I ignored them. I tore down endless alleyways, the thumping of my heart getting louder and louder until I heard nothing else…

Then I was on fire. Slowly burning. I fell to the floor, my vision fading to blackness.

And then I saw no more.


	13. Epilogue

Epilogue

**AN**: Originally, I hadn't planned on this last chapter, but after some comments and some thought, I realized that this story needed some closure and a definite ending. Sorry this took so long, as you can see my goal for finishing this before the summer ended didn't work. School has been busy, and the fact that this was a difficult chapter to write has been the general reason for the delay. But now it is finished, and I hope you enjoyed the ride as much as I have. As an aside, I have ideas for other stories that may or may not be 'sequels' to this one. We'll see. But keep an eye out.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Star Wars.

Total chaos is what happened when the second Death Star was destroyed. But it was a good chaos. Complete and utter joy. Celebrations went on for a good couple of weeks.

I was happy too. Leia and Luke and Lando (and my ship) had made it out alive. Luke and Leia were twins (which definitely left Leia all to myself) and we were in love, slowly starting a relationship now that the fighting had stopped. Only one thing marred the day – one revelation that cast a shadow over everything I had ever known or thought – leaving me lost and devastated.

The celebrations were going strong, but something was missing – two somethings actually. Luke and Leia were nowhere in sight.

Leaving the crowd, I stepped off towards the forest, a faint smell tickling my nose. Fires were burning everywhere, but this one was separate from the main celebrations, and there was something strange about the smell…not an ordinary bonfire. There was something foul about it.

Following my nose, a few minutes later I came across a clearing, where I could clearly see a fire in the middle; and Luke and Leia, not far from it.

They looked up as I approached, and Leia looked like she'd been crying. Luke looked tired and distraught.

I grinned at them. "What're you guys doin' over here? You're missing the party…" and my voice died as my eyes caught on what was in the fire.

Darth Vader. Sith's spit, Darth Vader was _in_ the fire. Burning. I blinked a few times, but he didn't disappear. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I turned to Luke who had an arm around Leia and was watching me warily. Leia kept her eyes on the ground.

"Luke…why the hell is Darth Vader in the fire?" I tried to keep my voice level and composed. It was difficult.

His voice was quiet. "It's a traditional Jedi burial service. In his last moments, he turned back to the Light."

My eyes drifted back to the man in the fire. I tried to comprehend this, but it was pretty hard to believe. My mouth moved a few times, trying to form words, but for once in my life, I didn't know what to say.

Luke broke the silence. "Han, there's something we need to tell you."

Remembering he was there, I turned back to him. He was still holding on to Leia.

"I know, Luke," I said. "Leia already told me you guys are twins." I grinned.

Neither of them smiled. Leia still wouldn't look up. It was hard to read the emotions on their faces in the flickering light, but my stomach began to drop. Something wasn't right.

"Han…" Luke began, looking like he was about to drop a huge bombshell. "Darth Vader was my…our, father."

I just stared at him. It had to be a joke. Or I hadn't heard right. The kid was pullin' my leg. But Luke didn't joke, and his face was dead serious. There was no possible way… "No," I said, shaking my head vehemently. "No way. You can't… he – " Another thought occurred to me. "Your father was Anakin Skywalker." He was only mistaken. He _had_ to be. Because a monster couldn't produce _Luke_…I sucked in a breath as I realized that if Leia was Luke's sister, then her father…No. It just wasn't possible.

"Han," Luke spoke softer this time, like he was breaking bad news to a child. He sounded like he was struggling for words. "Han, Anakin Skywalker turned to the Dark Side and became Darth Vader."

My vision wavered and I heard only the blood pounding in my head. Anakin Skywalker…Darth Vader? Anakin Skywalker, who I looked up to, wanted to be…who'd shattered all my dreams…who'd been responsible for the deaths of so many…who'd cut of Luke's hand…his _son__'__s_ hand…who'd tortured me…the man I had once looked up to…?

A million thoughts swirled in my brain so fast I felt a wave of nausea. It didn't make sense. It couldn't be. A crushing feeling of betrayal and humiliation kicked me in the gut.

My fists clenched as I turned back to the murderer in the fire. There was so much anger…I was finding it hard to breathe. I had to get out of there.

I turned on my heels and left as fast as I could.

* * *

><p>The twins watched him go with sad eyes. Luke hated having to do this to his best friend, but he felt Han had a right to know. He didn't know much about the man's past, but over the last few years he'd sensed memories and feelings that led him to believe that Anakin Skywalker was more than just a name in the holonews to Han as a child. And now he knew for sure.<p>

Leia buried her head in Luke's shoulder, and she couldn't help the tears that fell. "He hates me. Because of what I am. Because of what I am from. I knew he would. I could feel his anger and disgust," she sobbed.

Though untrained, Leia had found it easy to read feelings through the Force – and even easier when they were as strong as Han's had been.

Luke too, had felt them. He pulled his sister into a tight hug. "It's alright Leia," he whispered. "I felt it too, but his anger wasn't directed at you. He's confused, hurt and angry for other reasons. Don't worry." He rocked her gently back and forth as she cried, his eyes locked on the direction that Han had left. "He just needs time. We all need time."

* * *

><p>I ran. I didn't know where I was going or why, just that it was away from <em>there<em>. Maybe I thought that if I ran far enough or fast enough, then everything would fall behind. Childish, I knew.

Childish. Like believing in someone that turned out to be evil. I couldn't figure it out. My stomach turned every time I thought about it.

Finally, I slowed to a fast walk. I wasn't sure how long I'd been running but it sure felt like a long time. My sides and legs cramped and I had to take several deep breaths.

Looking around, I realized I'd probably gotten myself hopelessly lost, but I didn't care. Right now that didn't matter.

I shoved my hands deep in my pockets and stared up into the sky. I had to process this and figure it out – away from everyone.

I looked at the stars. I wanted to be up there. Flying the Falcon, and not have to deal with all of this. I'd always wanted to fly. I remembered my first trip through space with Captain Bade, who was sort of like a father figure to me for a while. I looked up to him.

Thinking of model figures brought a sharp pain to my chest and I looked down in disgust. Filled with new anger, I kicked a stone and watched it bounce…and land right at the feet of a ghostly man.

My eyes slowly rose to see the tall man, transparent and standing there casually. I blinked a few times, but he would not disappear. I figured I was just overtired, stressed, and or drunk. Muttering several choice curses, I turned away. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Yeah. And then it spoke.

"General Solo."

No, it wasn't a question or a request. It was a statement; an order in a voice that expected compliance. My foot paused in mid-air and I slowly turned back around, a part of me feeling like I _had_ to turn around, and the other half curious to see if I really was crazy.

The ghost was still there. So did that make me crazy for sure, or did it mean he was real?

"You're not crazy," the vision said, smiling an impish grin.

I groaned and grabbed my head, realizing what I must be seeing. Luke had told me about this. "A Jedi. Just what I need – a Jedi who reads my mind."

"Luke requested I speak to you," the apparition said, and for the first time I looked at him – really looked at him.

He was young and tall, with a mane of curly brown hair, bright eyes – and a scar that ran down his face, and sent my mind whirling back into the past.

"Kriff," I whispered. It was the best I could come up with. In my mind all I could see was the man before me, pushing his way through the adoring crowd, looking upon the group of young boys, and winking.

The man – no, he was kriffin _Anakin __Skywalker_ – no longer smiled. "Luke was distressed and he thought I might be able to help…" his voice trailed off. For a Force ghost, he seemed to be uncomfortable. But not as uncomfortable as I was.

"Mhm. Right," I said sarcastically. "So you came here to what, comfort me? Say that everything's good now that you're 'all good' again?" I could feel the rage burning through inside, and something close to betrayal – but I pushed that aside. "Luke said you became Anakin Skywalker again, but his head's in the clouds. You'll always be Darth Vader to me."

I turned and stormed away. In truth, I was shaken to the core, seeing this ghost appear as Anakin Skywalker, my childhood hero, and not as Darth Vader, my enemy. Nevertheless, in a few minutes, nothing would stop me from blasting him right then and there. Forget that he was already dead.

"I know that's not what you think, Han," I heard him say. Stars, he was following me! "I know that when you were a child – "

I spun around, my control gone. He'd hit right at home, and he knew it. I jabbed a finger at him. "Don't! Don't you bring that up! You have no right," I growled. "That was Anakin Skywalker, not the Darth Vader who killed millions of people, blew up a planet, tortured me and for Sith's sake, his own _children_! How in the seven Corellian Hells could I look up to that! And why should I listen to you now?"

He quieted at that. He no longer had that impish grin, but seemed crestfallen. Well good, I thought, breathing hard.

After a few moments, he spoke again. "There are…some things…I am not proud of," he spoke slowly.

"That doesn't change anything," I growled.

"No," he conceded. "It doesn't. But I truly regret many things, whether you believe it or not. Including what I did to you…and my children." He frowned. "I deeply regret not knowing them, and not watching them grow up."

It was unnerving, listening to him speak this way, knowing that he was Darth Vader but bearing no resemblance…and even more so talking that way about Luke and Leia.

"How – you – " I sputtered, trying to make sense of it all. "The kid and Leia, I don't understand how you could - they must take after their mother," I scoffed. "They're nothing like you. I don't see how you could be related at all."

He was studying his hands, and it made me feel a little better knowing that he couldn't look me in the eye. "They are very much like their mother, and I am proud of them." He looked sad.

This whole day had been a rollercoaster of emotion, and I wasn't sure how much more I could take. Standing there, listening to him talk with compassion, _remorse_ even, about his children whom he'd tried very hard to kill – well I was finding it hard to swallow. And again that anger surged through me. Why was I still having this conversation, I wondered? This was going nowhere. This changed nothing.

Turning on my heels, I stalked away, determined to get as far away as possible. I was done talking. I didn't want to hear anymore.

"You love her. I know you do. I can sense it," I heard him say, in a voice that sounded like it was just behind me. So he was following me again. I didn't want to hear anymore. Then, when I took a few more steps, he said, "You must take care of her."

Incensed by the implication his tone carried, I turned back to face him, my earlier resolve not to speak to him evaporating. "I would never hurt her," I replied in disgust.

We made eye contact for the first time. It was unsettling the way that his eyes seemed to be able to see through me. He appeared to be thinking hard, and then just when I was getting fed up with the staring contest, he nodded to himself, as if he was coming to a conclusion he had known all along.

"I know that," he said softly. "And that makes you a better man than I could have ever hoped to be."

The silence was deafening. Neither of us spoke. I didn't know what to make of what he'd said. I didn't understand. But he just nodded his head to the side and said, "Go. Go to Leia. I think she needs you right now."

My eyes widened, realization hitting me like a fist to the stomach. Leia must have been feeling awful – and I had been so caught up in myself. This was her _father_, a much larger blow. He would have been someone she'd have looked up to, imagined as someone great. Without another thought or glance to the ghostly man before me, I ran.

I ran because I had to find her. I had to tell her I loved her and that I understood.

I understood what it felt like to have someone you so highly valued fall from grace.

**AN**: Thank you to all who've reviewed over the course of this fic! You guys are awesome!


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